here
by lunatic fringe
Summary: Scotty's thoughts after the standoff and during the time at the hospital.


**Title:** Here  
**Fandom:** Cold Case  
**Characters/Pairing:** Scotty, in his perspective; other characters present  
**Genre:** Drama; a little bit of angst; primarily friendship but if you try hard enough you can get L/S love out of this. :P  
**Rating:** PG-13 for language, especially the F-bomb.  
**Warning:** Um, spoilers for 4.24 Stalker? Yes.  
**Summary:** Scotty's thoughts after the stand-off and during the time at the hospital.  
**Other:** This was my first Cold Case fic ever. I was a little bit ashamed that I waited until the finale to write, because what, it took a tragedy for me to do this? D: But hey, I wanted to wait until I was ready to lose my Cold Case fic-writing virginity. (premiered 05/11/07 at 607am.)

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To say that I was upset when my partner told me she'd been hit would be one hell of an understatement. I felt lost, confused, disoriented. I was angry at myself for a fleeting moment because here I'd been thinking I could save her, but I obviously failed. Felt like _I'd_ been hit by a bullet too, and I was the one losing all the blood. That last one there, that's the most accurate, 'cause when I heard those three words — _"He got me..."_ — it was like all my blood just _stopped flowing_, like maybe it'd all been drained out.

When you're a cop, you know these things are gonna happen. But you kinda take it for granted; it's just an idea, a possibility — until it actually happens, that is. And then it just becomes so real, so fast. So fucking _fast_.

Even after Lil was taken away in the ambulance, I was still in the observation room, wondering just when and how and why things went wrong. I kept trying to figure out if he shot her only a fraction of a second before I shot him, or at the exact same moment I shot him, and that's why she got hit the way she did. Or maybe when I shot him, his gun fired by accident, and that's how she got hit. No matter how I sliced it, it kept coming back to me. Was this my fault?

That very question was playing over and over in my head on a loop even when Will and Kat finally dragged me out of there. _Is this my fault?_ I asked them, still confused and in shock and suddenly exhausted. _No, Scotty_, Kat told me, her voice sounding just as low and tired as I felt. And Will, with that same tone, backed her up: _No, you tried to save her._

At the hospital, we all sat in the waiting room. Every one of us. Despite how highly shaken up I was, I noticed everyone's expressions.

Our lieutenant, Stillman... Jesus, he had this look on his face like his own daughter was in there. Not just an "adopted" co-worker daughter, but an actual biological "I was there for her birth and her first steps and words and bike ride and boyfriend and prom and graduation" daughter. Even though he'd been shot too, he made it a point to be taken care of quick ≈ and even if it meant being drugged up on painkillers, he was going to be there waiting for the doctor to tell him Lilly was in stable condition. Come Hell or high water, he was _going to be there_.

Then there was Will, who I'd have to say is also sort of a another father-figure to Lilly. He and his wife never had any kids, so he doesn't have the same sense of paternal concern that Stillman's had experience with. But he does know what it's like to lose someone close to him, so you figure he's got a real good idea what it's like to be faced with even the _possibility_ of losing someone. For the entire time I was in the waiting room, I never once saw his eyes leave the door they'd taken Lil through.

Now Vera ... shit, I've never seen him look so concerned for Lil before. Guess he always figured she could take care of herself. He's always been kinda like a big brother who cares tons for his little sister, but won't ever actually admit it out in the open. Then something bad happens, and you can see it all over his face; he doesn't even need to say a single thing.

Kat looked so lost, so out of place. Until her, Lilly had been the only female on our team of boys... but I think when Kat came around, Lilly was kind of glad for the change. I can't say they're close or anything, but there's definitely a sense of respect from Kat to Lil. And Kat... right then, she looked sad and tired and helpless. The only _unharmed_ female on our team of boys now, but that didn't matter, 'cause she was hurting just like us. Maybe not as much, since she's still new, but she was. Don't think she'd even be here if she didn't care. I mean, no one's _making_ her be here.

It was Vera who pointed out how antsy I was getting. I kept pacing back and forth near them, but Vera's never been one to be very patient and ignore things like the others. I think he mostly wanted to get rid of me because my anxiety was making his worse, but I'm pretty sure he also really did think I needed to be somewhere else. He told me, "You gotta stop that, or else find a doc or a nurse and tell 'em you're Lilly's partner, and you wanna be there for her." So I chose the latter. A nurse directed me to the hallway outside the operating room, and I continued my anxious pacing there.

That's where I am now.

I don't see Lilly, which was actually a good thing, because I don't know what I'd do if I could see her at the moment.

That ADA — Christ, I can't remember her name right now — came in and offered sympathy by way of her hand on my shoulder, but I do _not_ want her around me right now. The only person I want to see right now isn't even Lilly; it's a doctor, coming out and telling me Lil's okay, and she's gonna be fine, and that they're gonna move her to another room so we can all see her. So I slip past the woman's hand and continue my pacing. I think she got my point, because now she's walking away — whether she's gonna join the others or just leave, I don't know. I don't even _care_.

I just want — I just _need_ — some good news.

But here I am, waiting for minutes and minutes and minutes piled upon more minutes and wrapped up in even more. Pacing, pacing, pacing, and my legs aren't even getting tired, or they _are_ and I'm not noticing it because I really don't care about anything else but how Lil's doing.

I wonder if anyone's contacted her sister. Part of me hopes not. Christina is the last person I want to see now, but I still gotta wonder. She's Lil's actual family, and she outranks me when it comes to visitors. One thing's for sure, though — I'm not letting her offer sympathy to me, and I'm not gonna offer mine to her. The last time I was hurting, I ended up with her, and that just fucked things up so bad between me and Lil. I don't need that again, especially when this time, the tragedy directly involves Lil. Chris and I are just another chapter that's been passed over and is never to be re-read.

Minutes have turned into hours, and I'm still not feeling at all tired. I keep asking myself, _how long does it take to stabilize a gunshot victim?_ but I know the answer to that. Minutes. Hours. Depends on how bad it is. My mind just isn't working in a rational way right now, I guess.

Time just ticks by, and it's agonizing, like the clock's mocking me for not being able to save her, and this is what happened. If it wasn't so high up and behind by a metal cage, I think I'd punch it right now.

C'mon, doc. Nurse. Someone. Get out here and tell me something.

_come on come on come on come on **come on**_

Then, suddenly, it happens. Tall, older guy in scrubs and putting on one of those doctor's lab coats comes out and he's looking as tired as I feel. I can't even ask if he's one of the guys who's been working on my partner. But he must be, because he looks me straight in the eye and asks me, "Are you a family member of Lilly Rush?"

"No," I tell him, my voice cracking because I haven't used it for hours now. "I'm her partner." And so he doesn't get the wrong idea — because that word has multiple meanings, you know — I add, "From work." For extra measure, I flash my badge.

He's taking an unbelievably long time to cut to the chase. "Ah. Well, I'm Dr. Hamilton. It looks like she'll make it. She's stable, and right now she's sleeping." He pauses. "She lost a lot of blood."

Oh, believe me, I know. "Yeah, I was there when it happened."

So now he's got this look on his face like he just had this major epiphany. "I see." I was sure he wanted to say more, but didn't want to intrude or something. Fine by me.

"Can I see her?" Because I've never been one to wait.

"In a few minutes. We're still completing her transfusions. There's not much room in there right now."

I nod, because later is better than never. "Alright."

"Is there anybody else here?" the doc asks. "I was on my way to check the waiting room, but since you're here..."

"Yeah. Our whole squad is here."

"Great. I'm going to need to tell them. You come with me, wait for me to give them the news, and then I'll take you back to see her."

I still don't feel much like talking, so I just nod again. Something about this guy makes me feel a lot better. Maybe it's 'cause he told me Lil was gonna be okay. Maybe it's because he's a nice guy. Maybe both. I don't know, and I don't really care, because things are just a whole lot better now and that's all that matters.

The others fix their eyes on both of us as soon as we come into their field of vision, and all of a sudden — for the tiniest fleeting moment — I feel ... _happy_, because I knew before the rest of them that Lilly's gonna make it. Dr. Hamilton breaks the news to them, and just like that I see their faces light up. All the guys get the biggest damn smiles ever on their faces, and Kat puts her hands together and bows her head. The boss tries to get up to shake the doc's hand, but he's still a little doped up and exhausted so he stumbles, and Hamilton goes over to him instead.

Dr. Hamilton's pager goes off and he reads it, then looks at me. "They're getting ready to move her to a regular room. You ready to go? You can go along with her when they take her to the other room."

I look at the others, suddenly feeling all shy and spotlight's-on-me, but they all nod their approval. Stillman's the only one who gives me a smile with that nod, so I decide I've gotta spend an extra five in the room with her, just for him. "Yeah," I tell the doctor, and he puts a hand lightly on my shoulder and leads me to where we gotta go. Few minutes later we're there, and I hesitate for a second before going into the room.

It's hard seeing Lilly in her current state. I've been her partner for a few years now, and for the entire time I've seen her as this strong, determined woman who carries a lot on her shoulders but still manages to stand up straight. It was bad enough seeing her after she told me her mom died; right then, she looked so helpless and lost and broken. I tried to comfort her then, which was not an easy task under the circumstances, but it helped to know I could do _something_. But this... this is something different. Lilly's just lying there on a bed, unconscious, pale, looking like she's shrunk down a few sizes. I can't do much to help her right now. Most I can do is sit beside her until she wakes up, and no one knows when that'll be.

But I'll do it.

After all, I told her I was here for her, right?

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**A/N:** Still moving stuff here from the writing journal. 


End file.
